


session o5: goodnight, goodbye

by cruellae (tinkabelladk)



Series: 12 little sessions (with bonus track) [6]
Category: Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22863175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkabelladk/pseuds/cruellae
Summary: like an angel from the underworld, or maybe a demon from paradise
Relationships: Julia/Stella Bonnaro, Spike Spiegel/Vicious
Series: 12 little sessions (with bonus track) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623682
Kudos: 14





	session o5: goodnight, goodbye

**[Smile Like That](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43xJzDUxL0I) by Esperanza Spalding**

**—**

**It's been a while since I've seen that smile**

**I cannot help but wonder**

**And it's nothing but natural to wonder if you've ever loved her**

Vicious calls Julia at three in the morning, waking her from a peaceful sleep. That, at least, is familiar. He always was a restless sleeper, and though he never meant to wake her when he got up in the middle of the night to pace before the wide window in his apartment—talking softly to Vraska and staring into the heart of Tharsis City—he usually did. 

She would join him, though she had no comfort to give that he would want. Vicious was a self-made man; needed no one, wanted nothing, loved only his work. Or so she thought, back then. 

“Can’t sleep?” she asks coyly when Vicious’ face appears on the screen. Wondering if he is thinking of the same late nights, early mornings. 

“Where are you?” Vicious asks. His gray hair hangs in his eyes, disheveled as ever. On one edge of the frame, she can see Vraska’s black feathers. 

“It’s good to see you too,” she says, cold and mocking. “How have you been, Vicious? Keeping well, I assume? Everyone thinks you’re dead, you know.” 

“Well. That makes three of us.” Vicious holds her gaze, cold gray eyes, and she wonders what it was she ever loved about him, or why she sometimes still longs for his company, mirthless and monstrous as he is. “Where are you, Julia?” 

She turns her face away, her hair falling like a curtain between them. “Why do you want to know? What are you planning?” 

“I found him,” Vicious says.

Her eyes are drawn back to the screen, attentive on his face. There is only one person Vicious might mean by that. 

“He still loves you. And he wants to see you.”

Julia shakes her head. This is too much; her foolish mistakes should stay in the past, where they belong. 

“You owe him that much,” Vicious says, his voice low and cold. “Don’t you think, Julia?” 

**—**

**Guess it's something I can't help when I notice the way your eyes focus / On each word and gesture she does that makes you smile like that**

**—**

“Julia.” Spike stares across the dusty room, his eyes wide and soft, rendered defenseless with a single glance. 

“Spike,” she says, gently. “Would you like some tea?”

He nods numbly, standing there like a fool, drinking her in with his eyes. He approaches slowly, in shuffled half steps, as she heats water and brews tea in Stella’s favorite teapot. Stella has made this crashed transport ship out in the Venus desert into a home, a haven for lost souls, Julia chief among them.

Spike doesn’t sit until she does, facing him across a table that’s too short for his long legs, too small for his gangly arms. Still watching her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he blinks. 

“Where’s Vicious?” she asks, then curses herself for asking, for making herself just as much an idiot as Spike. 

“Downstairs,” Spike says. “He said you wouldn’t want to see him.” 

How right he is, and how wrong. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Spike says. “I’ve looked for you for three years.” 

Julia looks down into her tea and sees her own face reflected. Vicious always told her she smiled like an angel, but he never had any illusions about what she really was. 

It had been so good between them, sex and power and a constant, satisfying struggle for dominance. They could have taken the Red Dragon by storm were it not for her foolish heart. She doesn’t remember when she first looked at Vicious with something more than respect and desire, but that something quickly turned to desperate love for a man who would never love her back.

“It was raining,” Spike says. “I waited in the graveyard for you for hours. But you never came. You promised you would, but you didn’t.”

“I was supposed to kill you,” she admits, smoothing out her skirt. “Vicious told me to kill you, or he’d murder us both. I couldn’t go through with it. But I wanted you to be free.” 

“Vicious.” Spike huffs, baring his teeth. “Of course.” 

Julia has thought many times about which of them is to blame for what measure of heartbreak, but the answer to that equation always comes out crooked. Certainly Vicious has been the cruelest, but of course he has never known anything other than cruelty, whether inflicted on him or dealt to others.

“Don’t be so hard on him,” she says. “He was just afraid to lose the only person he’s ever loved.” 

“He lost you anyway,” Spike says, tossing the spoon down onto the table, where it clatters viciously against the sugar dish. “He never deserved you in the first place.” 

“It wasn’t about me.” Julia gets up and walks to the dusty window, looking out over the desert. Hoping that he will calm soon, and so will her troubled heart.

She can see Vicious below them, speaking to Roco. Stella’s brother is nothing but trouble, but Julia has come to care for him anyway. His enthusiasm is irrepressible, his innocence striking against the violence he witnesses regularly. 

Roco drops into a ready crouch, then lunges at Vicious, the glint of a knife in his hand. Vicious dodges easily, whirls around as Roco tumbles to the ground, and in an instant his katana is drawn and held an inch away from Roco’s throat. 

Her breath catches, fear spiking through her, but Vicious pulls the blade away and sheaths it, extending a hand to help Roco up. 

Beside her, Spike chuckles. “That kid saw Vicious take out some punk who tried to mug us and begged him to teach him how to “be a ninja.” He asked so many times it wore Vicious down.” 

“Of course he did,” she murmurs. That familiar jolt of longing hits her when Vicious glances up at the window for a half second before turning back to Roco. But it’s muted, a gentle heartache rather than the acute anguish that made her blind and foolish.

Not for the first time, she wonders— _ why him?  _ Out of all the people she could have had, why had her heart chosen someone so callous? 

If only she could have returned Spike’s love. But then, Spike never did see her, not the way Vicious could. He saw what he wanted to see, the angel he desperately needed in his life. Never mind that if Julia was an angel, she was one that belonged to the underworld. 

“Julia.” Spike gently puts his hands on her shoulders, those big hands she used to love so much. “If I asked you again. If I promised you I could protect you. Would you—”

She turns and presses her fingers gently to his lips. “Don’t.”

The hurt in his eyes lands on her like a blow. She has never, ever wanted to cause him pain. 

“I always loved the way you looked at me,” she says, gently. “I wanted to be the person you thought I was. When I left the syndicate, when I started over, I would think of you all the time. I would think, “what would Spike’s Julia do?” And then I would do it.” 

He frowns at her, and she knows he doesn’t really understand, but that’s okay. She’s not the one who has to deal with him now. He belongs to Vicious now, and maybe the two of them have always deserved each other anyway. 

“I’ve changed,” she murmurs, taking Spike’s hands. “And...it’s wonderful. To be free of all that violence and anger. I found someone who fills my days with happiness. This is my home now, Spike.” 

He’s gone perfectly still, and she watches his reflection in the dirty glass windowpane as he starts to say something and stops himself. 

“I’m glad,” he says finally, taking his hands from her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re happy, Julia.” 

She turns, then. “I hope you find your own joy somewhere, Spike. And I’m happy to see Vicious with you. I truly am.” 

“Oh. Am I intruding on something?” Stella emerges from the hallway, her hand running against the wall as she moves to guide her way.

Julia hurries to her side, putting an arm around her and helping her to a chair. Stella is becoming weaker by the day, the Venus Sickness eating away at her nervous system and stealing her sight.

“Stella, this is Spike,” Julia says. “Spike, this is my fiance, Stella.” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Spike says, with a slight bow. “I should go. But it was good to see you. Take care, Julia.” 

“Take care,” Julia murmurs, watching his shoulders slump as he moves with his usual fox-like grace down the stairs and out of sight. 

“That was  _ the  _ Spike?” Stella asks, gentle amusement in her voice, tempered with the sort of kindness Julia would never have imagined before meeting her. 

“Yes. And Vicious is with him.” Julia has hidden none of her past from Stella.

“They must have such interesting adventures,” Stella says. “I can’t even imagine.” 

“I can,” Julia says, kneeling by Stella’s side so she can rest her head in Stella’s lap. “But I’d rather be here with you.” 

It’s not long before Roco is bounding up the stairs, the sound of his gait announcing his presence before he appears. 

“Hey,” he says, grinning at them. “Who were those guys anyway? One of them gave me ninja lessons.” 

Julia smiles with genuine fondness, getting to her feet. She puts a hand on Stella’s shoulder, and even though Stella is the one who needs steadying, it always feels as though she is holding Julia up. 

“Just a couple of old friends,” she says, and leaves it at that. 

**—**

**If it's something you can't help, don't worry / But don't pretend you don't see and feel what's obvious to me**

**—**

She doesn’t expect to see them again, but she does. After Stella’s operation, which seems like a miracle, the gray ash seeds an impossible gift from Roco, the two of them appear in the hotel room after Stella’s operation. 

Julia doesn’t want to think about how Roco got the priceless seeds or all the possible reasons he hasn’t joined them here. 

Spike joins her at Stella’s bedside, his face gentle and grim. Vicious lingers warily in the doorway like he’s afraid to get too close. 

“Hey,” Spike says, softly announcing his presence. 

Stella smiles, turning towards the sound. Her eyes are still healing, but soon she will be able to see Julia’s face. Julia hopes it’s a countenance she can love. 

“Hello Spike,” Stella says. “Is your friend with you? I heard he taught Roco a thing or two.” 

“I did,” Vicious says. 

“Where is Roco?” Stella asks. “I want to see him as soon as my eyes heal.”

Spike and Vicious exchange a glance, Spike sorrowful, Vicious solemn, and somehow Julia knows. Her heart lurches, thinking of Roco’s exuberant spirit and irrepressible charm, and the pain this will cause Stella.

Stella reaches out, putting her hands on Spike’s face, gently mapping his expression with her delicate fingertips. “I see,” she murmurs. “Then Roco is dead, isn’t he?” 

“Yes,” Vicious says. There’s nothing tender in his voice, nothing compassionate. Yet Julia senses something almost like regret. 

“How did he die?” Stella asks, but Julia knows the answer already, has heard the rumors about Roco’s affiliation with a dangerous gang of smugglers. 

Spike and Vicious say nothing. 

“He must have been doing something wrong,” Stella says. “Something bad. Otherwise he would be here, beside me.” 

“No,” Vicious says. “He wasn’t.”

Stella turns her face away, a tear rolling down her cheek. Julia takes her hand, holding it tightly, wishing she could promise everything would be alright in the end. But she knows that would be a lie.

Spike gets up, the scraping of the chair announcing his movement. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Stella murmurs. “For your kindness to Roco.” 

“Yeah,” Spike murmurs, but the glance he shoots at Vicious is weary and lost. “Put some flowers on his grave for us.” 

Vicious, as always, is silent, impassive, as Spike makes his way to the door, then pauses. 

“Goodbye, Julia,” Spike says. She has never heard such anguish in his voice, and something crosses Vicious’ face that might be jealousy or anger, or it might be love. Or perhaps all three at once. 

“Goodbye,” she murmurs, watching as they walk out the door and out of her life. Somehow she knows this will be the last time she sees either of them. 

As soon as they disappear down the hallway, she turns her attention to Stella, kicking off her shoes and climbing into the bed so that she can hold Stella close to her chest. 

Stella’s softness and innocence is nothing like the cold ruthlessness Vicious had, the attributes she loved most about him. But Julia loves Stella just as madly, just as desperately. She has changed, shed the layers of ambition and anger that she once wore like a second skin. Somehow, despite the deck stacked against her from the beginning, she has become the angel Spike used to see when he looked into her eyes. 

**If it's something we don't have, it's natural to just leave it**

**At that so to let you be and maybe find**

**Someone that makes me smile like that**

……...GOODBYE ANGEL


End file.
